Thirteen
by Luimnigh
Summary: Three hundred and thirty five years was a long time. As a cruel act brings old pains back to the fore, Elsa is forced to accept help from the recently-deceased Commander Shepard, in a journey that threatens to unleash all she has kept secret from the world. The good Commander isn't just there to help her, however: he's there to recruit her for a mission. A suicide mission.
1. Prologue: Long Live The King

_Beep._ _Beep. __Beep._

His Majesty King Olaf the Second's eyes shot open at the alarm. As the music began it's repetitive, lyricless beats, he questioned his decision to have an alarm installed. He really didn't need it. His advanced age woke him at roughly the same time each morning anyway. With the time he woke up at each morning, he was unlikely to sleep through an important appointment, and if he did come close to it, one of the staff would see fit to wake him.

Likely Eric. Eric had been on the staff since even before Olaf had become King, and was very much stuck in his ways. Though he was out this week; a case of food poisoning. He had insisted on powering through it, but a man in his nineties needed proper treatment for any ailment, technological advances aside.

The King frowned. Didn't he have a hospital appointment? Today? Olaf tapped at the alarm's holographic display, the schedule popping up. It seemed not. Perhaps tomorrow, then.

Olaf slipped out of the bed and into his slippers. Although the bedroom's plush carpeting was wonderful underfoot, he knew just how cold the hardwood flooring (that made up the majority of the castle) could be. Even in this day and age, tradition trumped practicality, and Arendellian spruce did not go well with underfloor heating.

A pity. Unlike his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandaunt, cold temperatures were not his strong suit. Some would say that was a strange trait for a denizen of Arendelle, much less he King, others would say that global warming was starting to have an effect on human physiology. It certainly had an effect on the geography.

He shuffled his way down the corridors, his mind wandering. As a child, he had very much loved the stories of his "aunt", as they called her. The ice sorceress who had accidentally frozen Arendelle, but had been able to lift the spell thanks to the love of her sister. It was a fun story, one that taught the importance of family and the dangers of naivety. It wasn't until his eighteenth birthday that great-grandma Georgina had entrusted him with the fact that the story was true.

He had been skeptical at first, but once he had met his namesake, he was willing to believe it. The Ice Palace was a beautiful structure and a popular tourist attraction, though none but the Royal Family had access to the interior. They had let in some foreign dignitaries, some historians, even a few camera crews - but none without appointment, and none saw the Palace's residents.

"Cousins" Olaf and Marshmallow were a family secret, one that each ruler took to their grave.

Olaf reached the dining room, and sat upon his usual chair. Several footmen attended to breakfast, as the recent hire stood the corner, waiting for Olaf to finish. As he ate, his wife Queen Agnetha arrived and took her place next to him. Although usually jovial in the mornings, she appeared unusually sullen. It happened - some days. No matter how long she kept her mind from it, it always came back in the end, and on those days her mood could not be brought up at all.

The recent hire handed the datapad to Olaf, containing a copy of each of the morning's papers. Although physical paper was still very much in use, it was quite niche, and the newspapers had abandoned paper altogether. It had cut costs incredibly, but it was still somewhat sad.

The new hire began tapping away at the orange holographic computer interface around his forearm, as he lined up the news briefing for the day. First the national news, then international, the news from the colonies, and finally the news from the other races. A quick few headlines from each, as Olaf could search in further depth within the daily papers.

Olaf couldn't bear to listen for more than a few minutes, his mind wandering off around the point where something was said about colonization efforts on Chasca. It wasn't that he disliked being informed of political matter - oh no. Although the monarchy of the Kingdom of Arendelle held little actual power nowadays, Olaf liked to keep abreast of political matters. His position, no matter how ceremonial, was still an important one. He was a symbol to his people, a final speck of patriotism and nationality in world where the Systems Alliance was deemed more important that any one country, and where the Citadel Council was more important than that.

It was simply that the tone of the recent hire's voice was incredibly monotone. It did not waver, it did not become excited, it did not become bored. It had no emotion to it. It was flat, through and through. The best comparison would be to an elcor unwilling to preface his statements.

"Finally, the Destiny Ascension and it's escort have returned to the Citadel Defense Fleet after it's tour of the Asari colonies." finished the footman - Johannes, he believed the name was? Usually Eric gave the news, but it would be quite unfair to call him out of the hospital each morning, and so the recent hire was taking his place.

"Not that it did much good in the geth attack." replied his wife bitterly.

Olaf refused to reply to her remark. Anything regarding the attack of Citadel, if not nipped in the bud, was cause for an argument. He could hardly blame his wife for the resentment she felt for anything and everything connected to the incident, even the defenders. They had both lost so much that day, and the pain was still fresh. It was still an open sore. It would probably prove to be until the day they died.

"Is that all, Johannes?"

"All the official news, Sire. And apologies, Sire, but it's John."

Olaf winced. The men and women that helped run their day-to-day lives deserved nothing but the utmost respect, and to forget poor John's name was the ultimate insult.

"The apologies should be mine, John. I'll make sure not to forget it again. What of unofficial news?" he said, giving a sly smile. The grapevine was a most fruitful resource. At the very least, it would turn the conversation away from the Citadel incident.

"Well, there's rumors flying around that Commander Shepard has been spotted out in the Terminus Systems."

Spoke too soon.

"Shepard?" the Queen exclaimed. "That oaf of a man?"

"Now dear," the King cajoled, "I've seen a few of the Commander's interviews. He appears to be quite eloquent."

"Eloquent or not, he's still one of those awful soldier types."

"Dearest, you must remember that I was once a soldier myself."

"Oh, you know what I mean. Special Forces. All this clandestine stuff. That man has probably done horrible things, things that will never be known."

"He's also done great things. He stopped that monster Saren, didn't he?"

"He had the chance to do so weeks before the attack! On that planet, Virmire! And if he'd taken that chance, we wouldn't- we wouldn't-"

Agnetha couldn't finish her sentence, her voice cracking as she broke down into sobs. It was most undignified to cry in the face of the household staff, but they had seen it enough at this point. Olaf leapt from his seat, and rushed to his wife's side, comforting her. The loss of Prince Agdar had struck them both deeply, turning two of the most optimistic people Arendelle had ever spawned into grief-stricken wrecks. Since then, they had regained a little of their previous outlooks, but it was easy to see the undercurrent of sadness that ran through their daily lives.

"We'll go today, Aggie. We'll go today. John, talk to Bjorn. Have him clear today's schedule."

"Yes sir." came the reply, as John tapped away at his omnitool. "And may I just say sir, the flower nursery is coming along beautifully this year. We seem to have a surplus of the orange tulips."

A small smile broke across Olaf's face. The orange tulips were always his favourite. They had also been Agdar's.

"In fact, Sire, there's enough provide for a funeral."

Olaf frowned, and turned to scold John for his insensitive comment. Instead, he could do nothing but scream as John's omniblade pierced his heart.


	2. Woke Up This Morning, Feelin' Fine

_Beep. Beep. Beep__._

The alarm's shrill cries died quickly, as a hand emerged from beneath the duvet to turn it off. The radio function replaced it, softly playing music many would deem "ancient".

_"Woke up this morning, feelin' fine, had a little something, on my mind..."_

Culture was something that changed quickly. For hundreds of years, the most popular songs were accompanied by lyrics, but before that, the works of Mozart, Bach and Beethoven had been predominantly instrumental. Although Omnitools could translate the many languages of the galaxy quickly and efficiently, things such as music often returned mangled. Rhyme and rhythm did not survive the translation process. Therefore, music had come full circle again - back to instrumentals.

Elsa was aware of the circular nature of life. After all, at three-hundred-and-sixty-two years-old, she had seen more of it than most people. The only ones who could claim more were Asari and Krogan.

She slipped out of bed and checked her schedule, then groaned. She had to meet with him again today. The worst part of the week. The man was bullish, xenophobic, and had none of the charm a diplomat needed in abundance. A bureaucrat to the core.

Donnel Udina was most certainly not the man who should be representing Earth to the other Citadel races.

Elsa busied herself with her morning routine - breakfast, shower, getting dressed. She had been quite happy to find dresses back in fashion as casual wear after all these years, and had acquired several in her traditional shade of blue. White and blue weren't exactly popular colours on the Presidium, probably due to the ceiling. Although the constant blue sky above the Presidium was convincing, it was quite clear that it wasn't Earth. The gravity was all wrong, for one. The Presidium's gravity was a mere 0.3 Gs, and no matter how long she spent there, everything still felt... floaty. Things fell to the ground, yes, but it took them longer.

As she took the sky-car to Udina's office, she flicked through the files she had been sent by Parliament. As the Arendellian advisor to Udina, she was to promote Arendelle's interests to the "good" Ambassador, and hope that he, in turn, would promote them to the other races. Although what she was sent nowadays was mainly tourism-related, some days she found herself with something more important. Colonization discussions, missing persons, visits from the Royal Family...

* * *

><p>"So, Miranda. Who's next?"<p>

"The nearest one would be the convict, Jack. She's incarcerated in the Purgatory prison ship, currently in the Hourglass Nebula."

"Incarcerated?"

"Her rap sheet is as long as my arm. But she's a powerful biotic, one of the most powerful ever reported. She could be a great asset to the team."

"So we'd be breaking her out?"

"No, Cerberus has paid for her release. Purgatory is run by the Blue Suns, so they sell the prisoners to the highest bidder."

"Okay, who else?"

"The Warlord, Okeer, is only one jump away too. Korlus, in the Eagle Nebula. Intel suggests that he's had contact with the Collectors in his efforts to cure the genophage. After that, Cerberus has hired Kasumi Goto, a master thief. She should be waiting on the Citadel."

Miranda left without a word, and allowed Commander John Shepard to stew in his thoughts. As far as he could remember, he could get to the Eagle Nebula from the Hourglass Nebula, if he went through the Crescent Nebula. Go the other way, and he'd have to backtrack to get back to the Hourglass Nebula.

His mind made up, he made his way toward the Galaxy Map, which was in it's pride of place overseeing the crew of the Normandy SR2. Just as he went to activate the interface, Kelly Chambers piped up.

"Commander, you have new messages at your private terminal."

The good Commander made the usual detour towards his terminal, and opened it up. As he read the message, his face broke into a grin. It seemed he had more to do on the Citadel than just collecting a thief.

* * *

><p>The sky-car landed gently, the mass effect fields ensuring the smoothest of rides. A short walk later, Elsa found herself entering the ambassador's office. She smiled as she spied Councilor Anderson, sitting in on the meeting once more. He had even less experience as a diplomat than Udina, but the key difference was that Anderson knew that fact, and was doing all he could to rectify it. Although he also lacked the charm that a diplomat needed to possess, he made up for it with a refreshing sincerity.<p>

He was happier today than Elsa had ever seen him. She had met him just over two years ago, but there was a definite difference between the newly-minted Councilor Anderson and the Councilor Anderson that had emerged after the death of Commander Shepard. She had seen it before, the look he had worn that day: the look of someone who had lost a child. A look too often seen in her own family.

The meeting began. The American advisor spoke in somber tones about the disappearance of one of their colonies, Freedom's Progress, out in the Terminus Systems. Not the first, and from the sound of it, not the last. Elsa herself had the unfortunate duty of speaking about Fandral, a colony of roughly 250,000, when it disappeared four months ago.

"I implore you, Councilor. We need someone to do something about this. The Alliance can't do enough to protect these colonies, they're to afraid of spooking the Batarians to send a fleet." finished the American, Joshua Goodwin.

"I'm trying, Mr Goodwin. But the Council faces the same fears. They don't want a war with the Terminus Systems, and sending a fleet to defend the colonies could set them on edge."

"Bah! The Council wouldn't be so hesitant if this was a Turian colony! They simply don't care about human colonies!" interjected Udina. A perfect example of his complete lack of tact.

"Then why not do what you did last time? When Saren and his Geth were attacking human colonies, the Council refused to send a fleet, but they did send a Spectre!" Goodwin pleaded.

"Surely you don't believe the rumors that he's alive, do you? It's preposterous!" exclaimed Udina, skeptically.

"Ambassador, be quiet!" shouted Anderson. "As for the rumors of Shepard's survival, I've taken matters into my own hands on that front. I've sent a message inviting Shepard to come speak with me."

Elsa perked up at this. That explained Anderson's lightened mood.

"Councilor, you can't be serious!" protested Udina. "Shepard died on the Normandy, and even if the rumors were true, they say he's working for terrorists! Cerberus, even!"

The shouting match came to an abrupt halt, however, as the majority of the Omnitools in the room chirped with an incoming message. Although they had been set to silent, the message had been marked "High Priority", and had overridden the mute. Elsa opened the message, and barely made it to the end of the first sentence before her stomach dropped. The words "King Olaf" and "assassinated" hit her like a knife in the gut.

She shot up from her seat, excused herself, and left the room. Behind her, she could hear Udina beginning to complain about her departure, before the force of a dozen glares got the desire for his silence across.

It was taking an obscene amount of willpower to stop the snail-trail of ice that threatened to form beneath her feet, but she was managing it. Her control had grown over the centuries, but her powers were still powerfully affected by her emotions.

She had known Olaf since he was a newborn infant, and had found in him a sort of kindred soul. His parents, Prince Christian and Princess Hannah, had died in the same tragic accident that had killed his grandfather, Prince Michael. At the age of ten, he had been left orphaned, and at twenty, he had been thrust upon a throne he had not expected, at the death of his great-grandmother.

Elsa had expected Olaf's death, an expectation that came from age, but this was sudden. Olaf wasn't infirm, he was as healthy as any seventy-two year old could expect to be. It was sudden, it was unforeseen, it was...

It was a murder.

Elsa threw the sky-car into autopilot, allowing it to take her home. The manual controls had gained a thick coating of ice, rendering them inoperable. It hadn't been long since the last murder of a member of the House of Arendelle, and the wound was still fresh.

A member of C-Sec met her at the doorway to her apartment. Apparently, he was to stand guard until a Systems Alliance Marine could relieve him, who himself would be replaced by an Arendellian Royal Guard as soon as possible. It was simply protocol that when a member of the Royal Family died under suspicious circumstances, all members of the Family were put under armed guard.

_Being stabbed through the heart counts as "suspicious"._

Officially, Elsa was a distant cousin of Olaf's, roughly fortieth in line or some ridiculous number. Not even the guard who would be assigned would know the truth - not that anyone outside the Royal Family knew the truth.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, the knock came at the door. An Arendellian Royal Guard, in the ceremonial uniform, was waiting to escort her to the waiting transport. It was a straight journey from the Widow Nebula to the Local Cluster, only a few hours. It was one Elsa made multiple times a year. This would not be the first royal funeral Elsa had attended. It seemed that fate, to make up for the fact that she had missed her parents' funeral, had decided to let her bury more relatives than anyone had any right to. She just hoped that this would be the last one for a decade.<p>

As it turned out, that hope was in vain.


	3. A Long, Long Time Ago

**Author's Note: So...**

**This is the result of a Frozen obsession and a Mass Effect binge. Not much past that. Some inspiration from various one-shot fics that have Elsa's powers make her immortal, and have her in the modern world. Decided to take it further.**

**As for the topic of an update schedule: there is none. I wanted to do weekly updates at first, then twice weekly, now I'm just gonna update when I can. My creative juices don't exactly flow. It's more like an unstable explosive compound. I can prod it, light a fire under it, throw explosives at it and it might never go off, but then it just goes off at random when I'm least expecting it. And least able to write it down.**

**Have a question? Ask away. I think you do that through reviews, which I'd love by the way. This is my first fanfic, and constructive criticism is always appreciated.**

* * *

><p><em>The fires raged on, blackening the once-white surfaces of the Presidium. The choking smoke, made slightly orange by the fire, pervaded every cubic inch of the once-pristine air.<em>

_That is, except for a bubble of clean, cold air that poured forwards from Elsa's palms. The icy winds smothered the heat of any flames it came into contact with. This was much to the astonishment of the collection of people who followed closely behind her._

Damn the secrecy,_ Elsa thought. _No secret is worth a person's life.

_The motley crew of Asari, Salarians, Elcor and even a few Turians that followed her would surely agree. They dared not question this icy angel's existence, or why she was protecting them. And protect them she had, as a trail of ice-mangled Geth was left in their wake. _

_They had come to investigate the abnormal heat and energy signatures, specifically, the lack of heat and high amount of energy. After the first encounter, the group had been designated "hostile" by the consensus. _

_Elsa and her accompaniment rounded a corner, and straight into another platoon. A wall of ice was raised, which weathered the oncoming storm of gunfire admirably. What as storm it was, a mix of gunfire, rockets and even a siege pulse launched by the platoon's accompanying Armature. Unfortunately for the Geth, properly formed ice was stronger than steel._

_Magically made ice on the other hand, was even stronger. The ice wall exploded outwards on Elsa's command, icy shrapnel piercing, cutting and tearing the robotic assailants asunder. The area grew loud with the robotic groans of dying geth, the catastrophic damage forcing them shutdown left, right and centre. The only Geth to absorb the hailstorm was the big one, the four-legged Armature._

_The Geth consensus upgraded the designation to "dangerous"._

_It readied another siege pulse, the crackling blue energy charging in it's maw. It did not get the chance to let it loose however, as it's weaponry warped and cracked from the ice the expanded within it. A forest of ice stalagmites grew rapidly beneath it, piercing it's armoured hide and striking deep into it's internal systems. The killing blow was the volley of ice spikes that erupted from Elsa's fingertips._

_All in all, the battle had lasted less than a minute._

_The group moved on, climbing over the ravaged robotics. They passed by another Avina station, still spewing useless advice about the nearest evacuation zone. The Citadel's arms had closed. There was no evacuation possible._

_But still they soldiered on, looking for some way to get off the Presidium and into the Wards. From there, they could get behind the C-Sec cordons and find safety. From there, they would be safe from the Geth._

_A cry rang out from behind Elsa, thoroughly derailing her train of thought._

_"Aunt Elsa!"_

* * *

><p><em>"Aunt Elsa!"<em>

_Elsa whirled, catching a glimpse of the red-headed streak blazing towards her before it enveloped her in a tight hug. Said speed and said hug had the unfortunate effect of disrupting her balance. Although a fierce battle raged between gravity and balance, gravity won the day, forcing Elsa to conjure a pile of snow to cushion the fall._

_Idunn Bjorgman, even at only three years old, was quite a handful._

_After a playful struggle between the strength of a full-grown woman, and the energy of an excited three-year-old, Elsa settled for sitting on the floor. Of course, an energetic three-year-old was an easily-distracted three-year-old, and Idunn had begun rolling the snowpile into a snowman. Easily her mother's daughter._

Where_ is _Anna? _Elsa thought idly. _Where Idunn goes, Anna is hardly ever far behind.

_Letting Idunn continue with her snowman-building, Elsa quietly left the room. After asking a maid to watch over her young niece, she made her way to Anna and Kristoff's bedroom, which they had shared since their marriage four years ago. Just as she went to knock, however, a familiar sound came from behind the door._

_The sound of someone being quite violently ill._

_Elsa had become intimately familiar with the sound during Anna's pregnancy, the "morning sickness" as it was called. Anna had called it "the worst part of pregnancy" several times during the stage where it was present. The birth had proven her wrong._

_Elsa was sure that if she was the one who had been giving birth at the time, Arendelle would've found itself in another premature winter._

_Just as Elsa turned to return to Idunn, the door opened. Much to Elsa's surprise, Anna stood in the doorway, looking the worse for wear. Her hair was a mess, her eyes seemed duller, and her skin was beginning to rival Elsa's in it's paleness._

_"Oh, Elsa." Anna said, in a pained tone of voice, devoid of her usual energy. "I was just gonna look for you."_

_"Anna, are you alright? You look sick." worried Elsa. "Do you want me to send for a doctor?"_

_"No, no, I'm fine. 's just a stomach bug. Kristoff has it too."_

_The retching sounds emerging from behind Anna backed up her claims._

_"'s what I wanted to to talk to you 'bout, actually." Anna continued. "Will you mind Idunn for a while? 's just that I don't want her catching it too."_

_"Of course, Anna."_

_Anna closed the door, shooting Elsa a small smile as she did. Elsa returned it for only the briefest of moments, before it became a worried scowl. This illness had come on incredibly fast. The night before they had been fine. The thought occurred to Elsa that maybe this was some sort attack, a plot by Hans and his twelve brothers-_

_Elsa shook that final thought from her mind. Ever since word had arrived of Hans' lack of punishment by his family, the stray thought that he would return for revenge plagued the underlying thoughts in Elsa's mind. Although Hans wouldn't be able to stage an assault on Arendelle, the man was good at manipulation and subterfuge. He could be working against them, ready to strike at any time._

Of course_, Elsa reasoned, _this is likely the result of a lifetime habit of worry being hard to break.

_She smiled softly at this, the simple fact that she didn't have to worry anymore. For the last six years, life had been perfect. She had Anna back, control over her powers, acceptance from her people, and a young niece waiting for her in her study. Before she returned to Idunn however, she sent a footman to fetch the royal physician. Even a stomach bug deserved some slight medical attention, in Elsa's opinion._

_Or maybe worrying was simply part of her nature._

* * *

><p>Elsa came awake at a jolt, a slight bump in the movement of the transport. Of course, the shields should deflect any foreign objects or pockets of turbulence, lending to a smooth flight. The ship jolting, barring any failure of the shields, could only mean one thing.<p>

She was back in Arendelle.

She departed the transport swiftly, refusing the Royal Guard's offer to take her luggage. She had packed light, and the awaiting sky-car wasn't situated far from the terminal. From the corner of her eye, she spotted several more Royal Guards dressed in plain clothes. Extra security measures. She wondered if all members of the Royal Family were getting this treatment, or if it was being done especially for her.

The sky-car ride was mercifully short, and landed directly in the courtyard of the castle. Although Arendelle City was now made of tall, imposing spires, the castle itself was much the same. A modest building in terms of castles, a dull grey square in the middle of a vibrant blue fjord. The same fjord she had frozen so many years ago. The same castle she had grown up in. And despite the Guard insisting on leading the way, she knew where she would staying. The same room that she had hidden herself away in.

Nostalgia always gripped her when she returned to Arendelle, but never more than when she returned to her room. The blue rosemaling was still all-to-familiar, even after all this time. The room she had spent so much of her early years in, so many years avoiding Anna, hurting Anna, protecting Anna from herself.

More time than they had spent together.

* * *

><p>The bright blue biotic blur that had streaked across the battlefield reformed into Commander John Shepard with a resounding thump of displaced air. The kinetic energy of the biotic charge had to go somewhere, of course, and it's destination was the body of poor Eclipse Engineer that Shepard had rammed into. It was the sort of assault that would hamper a Krogan. The Salarian it hit hadn't stood a chance.<p>

Pumping a shotgun round into the corpse for good measure, Shepard began the usual post-combat ritual: searching every nook and cranny for anything they could use. It was a habit he had gotten into back in the Saren days. Spectres operated on a level of freedom unheard of by any military, but as a result they were denied all but the slightest bits of funding. Cerberus was better in that regard (they transferred some funds after every mission) but the _Normandy _had made a dent in their bank balance that would take time to recover from.

Thus, he was back to looting everything useful that he could find. There wasn't much to be found however: some platinum, a safe full of credits. Not the biggest haul he'd ever found, but decent enough for a small base. What interested him more were the usual event logs that could be found pretty much everywhere in the galaxy. Even a mercenary group needed to send reports and expense sheets, and Eclipse wasn't any different.

What the reports contained, though, was very interesting. They'd managed to kill the Cerberus Operative they'd captured, and they hadn't been able to gain the cipher needed to decrypt the data that had come with him. They had, however, known what the data contained. Ceberus reports on Rachni experiments.

He remembered those experiments. He was the one who shut them down. If this information got out, Cerberus would be ruined publicly. It would be back to the shadows for them, and thus an immense drop in recruitment and outside funding. Perfect blackmail material for Eclipse.

Perfect blackmail material for Shepard.

He transferred the data to the Normandy's servers before wiping it from the Eclipse computers. Shepard didn't plan on being in Cerberus' good books for long, and it always helped to have leverage when you planned on leaving a group who'd rather you didn't. That wasn't a mistake he'd like to make again.

"So, Garrus. How'd you think he did?" Shepard asked, turning and pointing towards their newborn adolescent Krogan comrade. This was his first taste of combat.

"Grunt? He did good. Kept his cool, no berserker rages. A bit chatty though, and the mercs probably recognized that he was Krogan the minute he stepped into the room. No need for him to tell everybody." Garrus replied with a wry smile.

"Look who's talking. I'm pretty sure that most of them did see you coming." Shepard said, returning the smile.

Garrus chuckled for a moment, and gave Shepard an amused stare before speaking again.

"I should go."

Shepard watched his friend turn and walk away, stifling a laugh all the way to the Kodiak. A frown of confusion dented his features as he did so, not knowing why Garrus had left the conversation there.

_Why is he laughing?_

* * *

><p>"Shepard?"<p>

Shepard stopped halfway across the shuttle bay and turned to face Grunt. The newborn Krogan was only a few hours old, but had emerged his tube an adolescent. Okeer had provided him with a lot of information about Krogan culture and warfare, but he was still naturally curious about the world around him. This inevitably led to Shepard fielding a great many questions from the young Krogan.

"Yes, Grunt?"

"I've been searching the extranet, and I searched for Normandy. Why is the ship named for a place on Earth?"

"Well, this Normandy is named after the first Normandy-"

"Destroyed by the Collectors."

"Yeah." came the soft reply. A pensive look crossed Shepard's face momentarily, not that Grunt would notice. "The first Normandy was an Alliance ship, and the Alliance has rules for naming ships. Carriers are named after people, Dreadnoughts are named after mountains, Cruisers are named after cities, and Frigates like the Normandy are named after battles."

"So, the Battle of Normandy. Was it a great battle?"

"Yeah, pretty much. It was the turning point of World War Two. I'll send you some holo-vids on it."

Grunt, well, grunted in approval, and continued his path to the elevator. Shepard watched him go, a small smile creeping up his face. He'd never really thought about it, but _Normandy _was a pretty good name for a ship going up against a seemingly invincible enemy. Normandy had been the point where the Western World stopped seeing the Nazis as an invincible juggernaut, and started beating them. Probably wasn't what the Alliance had been going for, though. The Normandy Landings had also benefitted hugely from the element of deception.

Shepard followed his squadmates into the elevator, taking it to the main level and depositing Grunt and Garrus along the way. The Armory being on the main level was one big difference between the _Normandy SR-1_ and the _Normandy SR-2. _Alliance protocol was the Armory would be located in the Hangar Bay, so that ground crew could pick up their gear on the way to whatever transport the ship carried. The key difference between Cerberus vessels and Alliance vessels was that the Alliance had on-board security. Cerberus ships depended on the crew to repel any boarders, who usually entered through the Hangar. An Alliance vessel would have it's Armory seized by boarders almost immediately, but the security personnel would be able to repel it. If a Cerberus ship was like that, nobody would be armed enough to try.

Still didn't make up for the fact that it was awkward as all hell for people who didn't keep their weapons and armour on them all the time.

Mentally filing those thoughts away for later (in a little mental folder he called "Anti-Cerberus Tactics"), he made his way to the Galaxy Map. Finally, he was able to head to the Citadel and meet with Anderson. As long as he picked Miss Goto up along the way, there was really nothing left for him to do. No out-of-the-way pickups, no emergency missions for Cerberus-

"Commander, the Illusive Man would like to speak with you in the Comm Room."

_Dammit._


	4. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

**Author's Note: So, thanks for all the reviews so far. They've been pretty positive and optimistic, so, thanks for that.**

**Just want to clear a few things up. In this fic, Arendelle, Weselton and The Southern Isles are replacing Norway, Sweden and Denmark respectively on Earth. Those three countries aren't actually mentioned in Mass Effect, as far I can see, so I felt that was safe to do. It does kinda fuck with the international relations these countries took part in during the 1800s, but I don't think this will impact the fic much. Or at all.**

**Second off, I just experienced finals for the first time. That really impacted my time to write. That's why this chapter took a month to come out. On the other hand, it's bigger than the rest of the fic combined, so that's nice.**

* * *

><p>"What is it now?" sighed Shepard, as the blue-tinted hologram of The Illusive Man shimmered into view.<p>

True to form, The Illusive Man didn't even react to Shepard's indignant outburst. As an unfortunate side-effect of a Quantum Entanglement Communicator's complete lack of signal delay, there wasn't even a pause to give Shepard some misguided sense of victory in throwing off his unflappable benefactor. He missed the old days of hanging up on the Council for shits and giggles.

"Ah, Shepard. I've managed to locate a possible asset for the team you're building."

"And you couldn't just shoot me a message over the extranet...why?"

"There's a series of extenuating circumstances I felt were best explained in person, and you may have questions afterwards."

"Explanations? Like "Solus is former STG"? "Jack really hates Cerberus"? "Archangel is Garrus Vakarian"? What next, is Kasumi Goto my long lost sister? Is Zaeed my Dad?"

The Illusive Man took a long drag of his cigarette. Either Shepard had ruffled him, finally, or he just wanted a hit of nicotine. Either way, Shepard felt victorious as he chose to believe the former.

"Her name is Elsa Schnee. She's the Arendellian advisor to Ambassador Udina. On paper, it's a prestigious and important position-"

"In practice, no recognition and no power."

"Correct. She's also a minor noble of some relation to Arendelle's Royal Family, but the ancestry is murky."

"Usually those types like to keep track of their ancestry."

"That raised our suspicions, yes. We went digging into Miss Schnee's history, and what we came across was... unusual. Until nine years ago, Miss Schnee did not exist."

"I doubt nine-year-olds are given government jobs."

TIM took another drag of his cigarette. Shepard was beginning to sense the fact that The Illusive Man smoked a lot. The joy of his victory was beginning to dull, as it started to seem like less of a victory, and more of a coincidence.

"Records prior to nine years ago exist, of course, but we've been able to confirm that they were added to the system around the time of her appearance."

"So she hacked government servers and gave herself a new life."

"That was our suspicion, yes, but the additions were legitimate. The Arendellian government gave her this new life." He paused, sipping from the brandy tumbler he kept on the arm of his chair. "Outside of those documents, there is no trace of her or any like her in any other government database, not even witness protection."

Shepard shuddered involuntarily. The idea of Cerberus having free reign in witness protection databanks was disconcerting, to say the least. His mind flitted briefly to Corporal Toombs, wondering if he was safe. Cerberus would have an interest in killing an escaped test subject, especially one who was speaking out as loudly as Toombs.

"Furthermore, Miss Schnee seems to have a good relationship with the more important members of the Royal Family." The Illusive Man continued. "She visits the King and Queen on a regular basis, several times a-"

"Cut to the chase. Why do you want me to recruit her?"

"Very well. We've managed to acquire several eyewitness statements and some footage of Miss Schnee's activities during the attack on the Citadel. In these accounts, she is shown to make use of... cryokinetic abilities."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at the Illusive Man's statement. It it were anyone else, he'd take it as a joke, but the Illusive Man was as serious as he was illusive. Shepard couldn't help but feel skeptical, however. Biotic abilities affected gravity and mass, and nothing else. Any supernatural-looking abilities outside of Biotics fell firmly into the world of science-fiction and fantasy.

_Then again, _Shepard thought, _Reapers were a myth up until two years ago._

"Where can I find her? The Citadel?" inquired Shepard.

"Usually, yes, but thanks to the recent assassination of the King of Arendelle, Miss Schnee has returned there to attend the funeral. According to her schedule, she will be staying at Arendelle Castle for the next few weeks."

The blue figure of the Illusive Man winked out suddenly, and the Quantum Entanglement Communicator began shutting down. Shepard stepped off of the platform before it became a table once more, and looked around the room in bewilderment.

"EDI, what happened?" Shepard asked of the _Normandy_'s shipboard AI.

"The Illusive Man terminated the call, Shepard."

Shepard shot another glance at the QEC and grinned. The promised explanations and questions seemed to have been abandoned. He had definitely gotten to the bastard.

* * *

><p>"Agnetha, you can't keep pushing yourself like this."<p>

It had been less than three days since the death of King Olaf, and the funeral arrangements were almost in place. This fact did not dissuade Queen Agnetha from trying to organize as much as she could. It was plain to Elsa that her late nephew's wife was trying her hardest to keep herself busy. Heaven knows it was better than how Elsa had handled Anna's death, but no less self-destructive.

"No, Elsa. Olaf is-. is-. ...was. Was my husband, and I- I have to make sure everything is perfect. It has to be-"

Agnetha couldn't stop the oncoming torrent of tears from bursting forth and streaming down her face. She barely even registered the tight hug Elsa enveloped her in. Although Agnetha wasn't Elsa's family by blood, it didn't matter in the slightest. You couldn't know someone for over forty years and not begin to treat them like family.

The tears died slowly, but surely. Tears ducts had run on the brink of dry over the past few days, the family shedding enough tears to last a lifetime.

"Olaf wouldn't care at all about how he was buried, and you know that. All he'd care about is the fact that you're working yourself to death over this."

Agentha nodded mutely, extracting herself from Elsa's grip. You could actually see the weight lifting from the Queen's shoulders as she collapsed into the armchair, her first time sitting in hours.

Agnetha almost shot back up at the knock at the door, but Elsa's stern glare kept her down. Elsa opened it, and was immediately wrapped in a hug by the young man who had knocked.

"I came as soon as I could." he apologized, releasing Elsa from his grip and moving to hug his Aunt Agnetha. She happily accepted the gesture of affection from her surrogate son.

Giorgio Conti was the son of Olaf's younger sister Alva and her Italian husband. After their own tragic deaths, Giorgio had been raised by Olaf and Agnetha alongside their son Agdar. As Olaf's closest living relative, he was the next in line for the crown of Arendelle.

"It's alright." Agnetha managed to choke out, returning the hug.

"You made it, that's all that matters." Elsa reassured.

"If I wasn't on Thessia, I would've been here. I could've tried to stop that man, Elsa."

"Giorgio, you can't blame yourself. There was nothing you could've done. It was so fast..." Agnetha replied, her dry eyes managing to let loose a few more tears.

The sight of his beloved Aunt in tears marked a change in Giorgio's demeanor. One moment, Elsa could see what was little more that a lonely, lost child; the next, an impassioned young man inflamed with a righteous anger. She almost expected the next question.

"The man who did this. Where is he?"

"The morgue." came the soft reply. The King's bodyguards had not taken the King's death lightly, and it had been just their luck that the assassin had charged them with his omniblade. Without kinetic barriers, the injuries he had suffered were... horrific. The funeral, if anyone arrived to claim the body, would have to closed-casket.

The fire in Giorgio's eyes died as soon as it was birthed, and his hands unclenched themselves. He hadn't even noticed his nails cutting into his palms.

"...what can I do to help, then?" he asked weakly.

"Agnetha needs help in organizing the funeral. She's been working herself to death, while the physicians have ordered her bed rest."

"I'll make sure she gets it." Giorgio replied with a small smile as Elsa made her way towards the door. "I'm guessing you haven't gone to see them yet."

"It's been too hectic to go."

"Go now. We'll be fine here."

Elsa looked back at him, no small amount of worry in her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. It'll be closed by this hour. You can take Olaf and Marshmallow."

Elsa nodded, and gave Giorgio a small, sad smile before leaving the room. Giorgio was right, of course, it had been too long since she'd seen them. Although during the day it was a somewhat unpopular tourist attraction, at night the Royal Graveyard was deserted. With the aurora shining down, and it's position high in the hills above the lights of Arendelle City, the view was beautiful at night.

If Anna could see the view she looked down on, she would surely agree.

* * *

><p>Shepard had known what to expect when he arrived on the Citadel. The Master Thief he was supposed to pick up, an expert in subterfuge and technology, had literally plastered her face over holographic, talking advertisement. Nobody had ever seen her face, of course, and her hood still shrouded the top half of her face in shadow, but she wasn't exactly being subtle.<p>

"Got problems with collectors? Try Kasumi's credit services!"

Shepard winced. That pun actually physically hurt.

He walked past the advertisement another time, hoping to get another message. The ad activated again, this time in the style of an escort service. Goto had a sense of humour, he had to give her that, but that wasn't what he was listening for.

There was an echo.

He'd heard it the first time the ad had activated, and every subsequent time, and now he was trying to place it. It wasn't that the audio from the ad was echoing, but that he was hearing it from two places at once. A slight lag, just bordering on the edge of perceptible, separated the two.

"Do you hear that, Garrus?" he asked, turning to his Turian partner in... not-crime? Technically?

"Hear what?"

"You can hear the audio coming from two places."

"I'm only hearing one." Garrus said with a shake of his head.

Shepard grunted, and went back to listening for the second source. Garrus _had _recently taken a rocket to the face, but Dr. Chakwas had reported no hearing damage. More than likely it was another one of Cerberus' upgrades. When they had rebuilt him, they had seen fit to add a few more bits and pieces. Ceramic armour on his bones, synthetic fibers weaved into his skin and musculature. He was pretty sure his eyes were actually cameras, and he had been pretty surprised to find an earpiece had been installed into his ear. With EDI saying that he was approximately 30% synthetic, it wouldn't have surprised Shepard if they had given him bionic hearing.

He was the four billion credit man. They had the technology, so they had rebuilt him.

The train of thought became derailed as Kasumi's ad spoke again. He smirked slightly, the annoyance in her voice perfectly clear. It made one other thing clear though: these messages were being broadcast in real time, and therefore the other source for the audio had to be her.

And he'd figured out where she was.

Shepard walked away from the terminal, signaling to Garrus and Mordin to wait where they were. He hopped back into the skycar they had taken from the _Normandy_'s berth and started it up, the mass effect drive core lifting the sleek vehicle off the ground. However it didn't go much further than that, hovering next to the catwalk that was suspended over the customs area. The hood of the skycar popped open with a hiss, revealing what appeared to be an empty catwalk.

"Silence is golden." Shepard said to the empty catwalk. "And that billboard was pretty loud."

The empty catwalk said nothing in return, but the sudden weight that got into the skycar said enough. Beside him, Kasumi Goto shimmered into existence, grinning broadly. She leaned over Shepard and flicked a few switches on the skycar's controls, closing the hood and setting the autopilot on.

"Good to finally meet you, Commander. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan."

"So's half the galaxy. I should probably start charging royalties for the merchandise, but I think the Alliance owns my image rights. Have you been briefed?"

"Yes. I'm honestly surprised Cerberus didn't come to me sooner. I suppose it's my fault for being so hard to find."

Shepard flicked the autopilot back off, and began setting a course for the _Normandy_'s berth. Kasumi leaned back over, and returned the skycar to autopilot.

"Like I said, Commander," she offered in way of explanation, "I'm a fan. Your driving skills are... legendary, and I'd like to reach the Normandy without fearing for my life along the way."

Shepard grunted neutrally before continuing. "So, you're a big enough fan to work for Cerberus?"

"Hardly. They tried to track me down, so I tracked them back. Turns out, they wanted someone to join you for a very important mission, and they were offering a substantial amount of money. Normally, I wouldn't work with Cerberus on anything, but there's something I needed help with. So I made a deal."

"And I'm the one helping you, I'm guessing."

"That _was_ the deal. I can understand if you don't want to-"

"You're crew now. Whatever it is, you have my word I'll help you with it."

Kasumi looked at him, as if trying to see any sort of deception in his eyes. He had said it so matter-of-factly, as if he was saying that the sky was blue.

"...his name is Donovan Hock. He killed my partner, Keiji Okuda, and stole his graybox."

"Aren't those illegal in Council Space? They record memories, but damage the brain's ability to do it itself." Shepard paused for moment, remembering another thing about grayboxes. They couldn't be removed without killing the user. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Not as sorry as Hock will be." Kasumi muttered darkly. "Before he died, Keiji said that he had something bad on it. Something that could spark an interstellar war if it fell into the wrong hands. Hock's an arms dealer."

"So as soon as he breaks the encryption on the graybox, there's nothing stopping him from a huge profit."

"Exactly. Hock's mansion on Bekenstein is famous for being hard to crack, but I've found a way in. He's having a party in a few day's time. I can get everything prepared in time, but we'll need to stay on the Citadel for a few days."

"Assuming another Collector attack doesn't happen, that shouldn't be a problem. Any chance that Hock'll break the encryption before we get to him?"

At this, Kasumi smiled. "Not a chance. Keiji was the best hacker in the business. It'll take Hock years to crack it."

The skycar came to a slow halt, parking the pair in the _Normandy_'s docking bay. The hood popped open once more, allowing Kasumi to hop out.

"I'll have everything we need sent to the Normandy then. I'll have to acquire you some evening wear."

"If it's that ugly excuse for a tuxedo that's popular nowadays, you haven't got a snowman's chance in hell of getting me into that."

"I'll see what I can do. What are your sizes?"

"Ask Miranda. Heaven knows that she knows everything else about me."

"...which one is Miranda?"

"The one who's clothes look painted on. Jack's the one who's clothes are pretty much tattooed on apart from her pants and belts."

The hood of the skycar closed and it lifted back up into the air, leaving Kasumi confused as how someone made clothing out pants and belts. At least without looking like something out of an ancient ecchi anime. Shepard grinned for a moment, and turned off the skycar's autopilot.

It was time to have some _fun_.

* * *

><p>The Royal Guard waved Elsa through the gate as soon as she approached. If there were any tourists around at night, there would likely be cries of protest at how she managed to get in when they couldn't. There was at least an incident a day of some idiot trying to climb the fencing, or one of the sheer rock faces that surrounded the Ice Palace. The Royal Guard retained a search-and-rescue shuttle for the latter incidents.<p>

Arendelle's Ice Palace usually placed high on the list of Earth's most peculiar tourist destinations, both for it's nature and security arrangements. Constructed entirely from ice, it's architecture was praised both for it's fairytale feel, and for evoking the natural structures of ice, snowflakes in particular. On an engineering level, it was a complete mystery. There were no seams to tell where one ice-block ended and another began, the logistics of transporting so much ice up the mountain with nineteenth-century technology boggled the mind, and the actual purpose of the Palace was still disputed to this day. Historical records from this period were generally considered to be untrustworthy: all mentions of the Ice Palace, if were mentioned at all, conformed to the folk tale of Queen Elsa and her ice magic being the culprits. No historian worth their salt subscribed to that theory, blaming the snowfall of July-August 1844 on a variety of freak weather phenomena.

Fortunately for her, Elsa wasn't akin to fairies: she didn't disappear when people stopped believing in her.

The security measures in place were even more peculiar: naturally a chest-high perimeter fence stopped tourists from plummeting into the chasm that lay between the palace and the viewing area, but despite the presence of a bridge to the Palace, no-one was allowed to enter without express Royal permission. Many speculated that this was because the bridge was made of ice, but it had born the weight of those who had received the coveted permission. The official reasoning of the Arendelle Government was that the measures were in place to prevent damage.

In reality, the measures were in place to protect the Palace's occupants.

Elsa smiled as she crossed her ice bridge, which looked as flawless as the day she had made it. The repair work after Hans and Weaseltown's guards had rampaged through it had been easy, but she had been tempted to make a few additions. Surprisingly, it had been Kristoff who'd talked her out of it.

_What had he said? An artist who keeps trying to perfect their work never finishes it._

She had taken his advice, and left it repaired but unchanged. The great doors before her opened with a wave of her hand as she made her way into the entrance hall. Elsa's eyes surveyed the room, drinking in every detail. It hadn't changed since her last visit, but it was still good to refresh your memory every once in a while. Of all the things she had created with her ice, the Palace was _almost_ the thing she was most proud of. A single, simple burst of creativity had morphed into something beautiful, something wonderful. It's beauty was slightly soured at what the intention behind it had been, but it had evolved beyond it's original purpose.

The thundering crash from upstairs brought Elsa back down to Earth, and reminded her of the two creations that she was definitely most proud of. She glided up the staircase towards the main room, a smile planted on her face. It was the first genuinely happy smile she had worn for the past few days.

The main room of the Palace was one of the few with actual furnishings. A few plush armchairs, a few free-standing bookshelves, and usually a table near the centre of it all. Said table was now in several pieces, surrounded by two laughing Guardsmen, a grinning Olaf, and a very sheepish-looking Marshmallow. From the cards scattered among the wreckage, it seemed that this was a card game gone awry.

It had been the intention for no-one but the Royal Family to know of Olaf and Marshmallow's existence, but Olaf's curious and easily-bored nature had quickly put a stop to that. The Royal Guards on Palace duty were usually chosen for their more personable nature, ostensibly for tourist interactions. In reality, Olaf and Marshmallow would be _really_ bored without company. Therefore, Olaf and Marshmallow were on a first-name basis with most of the Royal Guard.

There was a reason, after all, that the myth of Queen Elsa and her snowmen had persisted for so long in the public consciousness. It was a story that existed in children's bedtime stories and drunken rambles alike. Olaf and Marshmallow were an urban legend, one that the Ice Palace Information Center at the bottom of North Mountain encouraged somewhat.

After all, Olaf plushies made up a large portion of their revenue.

Elsa twirled her index finger in the direction of the wooden fragments that used to be a table and blew them to one side, before raising a new table from the floor with another gesture. The Guardsmen shot up in alarm, but the snowmen instead shot forward towards Elsa.

"Elsa!"

"Mama!"

Olaf, having scampered under the growing ice table, reached her first. He leaped before he reached her, Elsa managing to catch his flying hug. His bottom half reassuringly plopped to the floor due to the influence of gravity, despite his very existence violating multiple rules of the universe. Marshmallow then crashed into the pair like a soft avalanche (which he essentially was), lifting them into his own hug.

The two Royal Guards shifted from shock and blind panic, to awkward reverence at Elsa's appearance, to simple awkwardness as the private family moment began. The fact that Marshmallow's hug was lasting longer than a few seconds compounded the awkwardness. All in all, it took Marshmallow half a minute to put Elsa down, Elsa being too polite to ask him to do so.

"Why did the table break?" asked Elsa, glancing at the pile of rubble she had swept into a corner.

"We were playing Snap with Gideon and Jack." Olaf answered cheerfully. "Marshmallow won."

Marshmallow shifted from one foot to another and awkwardly looked away from Elsa, prompting a giggle from the two Guards. Elsa's attention shifted over to them as they quickly stood to attention. Their stifled giggling did not help their ability to maintain the pose, and they soon were both doubled over in the throes of laughter. The pair's antics managed to get another smile from Elsa.

"Gideon and Jack, I assume?" she inquired.

After taking a few moments to compose themselves, the guards stood at attention once more.

"Privates Gideon and Baker, Ma'am." they replied in unison.

"Is Gideon your first or last name?" Elsa asked of the older one, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"Both, Ma'am." Gideon replied. "My parents thought it would be funny, Ma'am."

"I don't suppose you'd mind it if I took over for tonight, then?"

"No, Ma'am." they spoke again in unison, and began marching out of the room.

"Bye Jack! Bye Gideon!" Olaf shouted as he waved the pair goodbye, Marshmallow joining him. "See you tomorrow!"

Private Baker stopped and turned to face the snowman, a sad smile on his face. "Sorry, Olaf, but we're being rotated out tomorrow. New assignment."

"Oh." was all that Olaf could muster, his stick-hand dropping and the smile on his face fading as he watched his friends leave the room.

A silence pervaded the room, with neither of the three willing to break it. Elsa did feel bad about cutting short Olaf and Marshmallow's time with their friends. She chided herself for her selfish desire to be alone with them, especially when Agnetha needed her support. She almost reached out to stop the guards from leaving before she banished her doubts. This was something they needed to do. Something they always did. A little tradition that they enacted every time Elsa returned to Arendelle.

She made her own way to the top of the staircase that lead into the room, Marshamallow following her eagerly. However, Olaf simply stood where he was in the middle of the room, looking at Elsa. The question he asked was the same every time they did this.

"Are we going to see Anna and Kristoff?"

Elsa reply came with another sad smile, like it always did.

"Yes. We are."

* * *

><p>Alliance protocol was very clear on what were considered proper and improper interactions between Alliance personnel and their superiors. Although the rules were mainly about fraternization and romantic relationships, they also delved into what was appropriate and inappropriate for platonic relationships. Generally, an officer should greet a superior officer with a salute. On a more informal basis, a handshake would be appropriate. Running up to your superior officer and pulling him into a hug was most definitely against Alliance regulations.<p>

Shepard was technically not a member of the Alliance military.

Releasing Anderson from his grip, Shepard heard a cough off to right of him. He turned, and found himself face to face with holographic representations of the rest of the Citadel Council. Shepard glanced again at Anderson, who fired back a look that said "This wasn't my idea."

"I'd give you hugs too, but you're holograms." Shepard said through a broad grin, aiming to catch them off-guard.

"We're fine, Commander." replied the Councilor Sparatus, a little too quickly.

"Are you sure? Council Chambers aren't far from here. I can run up."

"We're fine, Commander." the Turian reiterated, even faster this time. Beside him, Councilor Tevos stifled a laugh at Sparatus' reaction.

Garrus wasn't as discreet, and let out a loud guffaw before silencing himself.

"After Councilor Anderson informed us of his contacting you, we requested that we should meet with you too." interrupted the Salarian Councilor, Valern. "We've heard many rumors since your return, several of which we've found to be... disturbing."

"After your actions in saving the Citadel from Saren and his geth, it was the least we owed you." continued Tevos.

"Let me guess. Cerberus?" Shepard asked. "They're a tool, nothing more."

"A tool?" Sparatus interjected.

"They gave me a ship, a crew, funding, resources and intel. I'm not on the payroll, if that's what your asking."

"What we're asking, Commander, is what you are giving Cerberus in exchange for these resources?" Sparatus clarified.

"They've asked me to investigate into the disappearance of human colonies in the Terminus Systems." He paused for moment, taking in their reactions. "Which is what a Spectre does, isn't it? You can't send a fleet in without risking war with the Terminus Systems. You need a dirty deed done dirt cheap. So you send in a Spectre."

"Shepard, because you were officially dead, you lost Spectre status." Anderson explained

Shepard paused for a moment. Those speeding and reckless driving tickets were going to be a pain in the ass now. "I don't suppose the Council will be willing to return it? After all, it would be good publicity with the Alliance public that you've got your best man on the case."

The Councilors looked between themselves, before tapping at their Omnitools.

"We're returning you to probationary Spectre duty, on the caveat that you restrict your actions to the Terminus Systems." Tevos explained. "Whether you believe it or not, we want these disappearances stopped as well."

"Do you have any leads yet?" Anderson piped up.

Shepard paused before speaking again. "It's the Collectors."

"The Collectors? They're a myth." exclaimed Valern.

"So were Reapers, right up until Sovereign sat on Citadel Tower!"

"Ah, "Reapers"." Sparatus interjected, making air quotes around the word. "We have dismissed this claim."

"The fact is, Commander, that there is no proof the Sovereign wasn't of Geth construction." Tevos explained.

"Apart from the fact that Geth ships all look the same and Sovereign didn't, what about Vigil on Ilos?"

"The VI you spoke to had shut down by the time we reached Ilos. Only you and you crew were able to speak to it." Valern rebutted.

Shepard glared at the Councilors for a few moments, steadying himself. They were still deluding themselves, still sticking their heads in the sand in the name of not worrying people. They should be preparing for the Reapers, not pretending they didn't exist.

"Even after all Shepard's done for you, you won't trust his word?" Anderson exclaimed.

"I've got more than just my word this time, Anderson." Shepard said, tapping at his Omnitool. The lights on the Councilors' Omnitools began flashing, and they all opened the video they just been sent.

"This is footage from security cameras on Freedom's Progress. My team and I were second on the scene after the disappearance."

"Second?" Anderson asked the obvious question.

"A squad of Quarian Marines got there first. There was a Quarian on Pilgrimmage there, Veetor'Nara. He was the one who managed to preserve the footage." Shepard tapped at his Omnitool again, making the Councilors' counterparts light up once more. "He also managed to grab this data. Full biological run-down of the paralytic insects they use to crush any resistance."

The Councilors stayed silent for almost a minute. Unlike the last time Shepard had come to them with a claim they thought ridiculous, this time he had brought the overwhelming evidence on the first visit.

"...this is a lot of evidence, Commander." Tevos said, breaking the silence.

"The footage _does_ match descriptions of Collectors..." Valern supplied.

"Where is this Quarian who acquired the footage?" Sparatus inquired.

"Back with the Quarian Flotilla. When we found him, he was suffering from PTSD. I let him go back for treatment." Shepard replied.

"Can you trust him?" Sparatus asked skeptically.

"The security footage is unaltered. I don't need to."

"Very well, Commander. Good luck in your investigation." said Sparatus tersely, before the holograms turned off.

"I think I got to Sparatus." Shepard said, turning to Anderson.

"I think you did." he replied with a chuckle.

Anderson walked over the office's balcony, Shepard following him. The view onto the Presidium was like every view onto the Presidium: boringly beautiful. Stark white surfaces went on as far as the eye could see. The crystal clear lakes dotted the grassy line that ran between the walls. Off in the distance, Shepard could spot areas where reconstruction work was still ongoing from the Battle of the Citadel. Worryingly, the Mass Relay statue remained untouched. Or maybe it was untouchable. The Mass Relays were indestructible, maybe they'd found the same to be true of the miniature one that lead to Ilos and back.

"How's the last two years treated you, Anderson?" Shepard asked.

Anderson grimaced in response. "The military is mostly politics after a certain rank, but..."

"Pure politics can be a pain in the ass."

"Yeah. Why'd you suggest me for this position anyway?"

"It was either you, or Udina."

"Say no more." Anderson said, chuckling again. "How have the last two years treated you?"

Shepard raised an eyebrow before answering. "Well, you know how I was reported dead?"

"Yeah?"

"The reports weren't exaggerated. Cerberus stitched me together, and tossed in a few upgrades along the way." He waved at the scars on his face, cybernetics glowing orange beneath the skin. "Stronger muscles, harder skin and bones, hell, I don't think my eyes are organic anymore."

"But you're still you?

"Cerberus made damn sure I was still me. Even tested me for brain damage."

"You were dead, Shepard. I don't suppose you saw the light at the end of the tunnel?"

"Don't ask me that, Anderson. If I start to think about it, I might start having an existential crisis." Shepard said with a joking smile.

"Alright. What else did they toss into you while you were under?"

"A biotic amp."

Anderson nodded, before realizing what Shepard had said. "Wait, what?"

Across Shepard's palm, blue biotic energy crackled into life. "Apparently the Normandy's crash site had enough element zero to give me secondary exposure."

"That usually doesn't happen outside of teenagers."

"Yeah. Something about the fact that they had to regenerate parts of me. Once they realized what had happened, they tossed an L5n amp into my skull. Another weapon for my arsenal, they said." The blue energy winked out. "Still trying to get the hang of it."

Anderson paused for a moment, taking it all in. It was a lot of information to process.

"Look, Shepard, what you said about Ceberus-"

"Is true."

"I'm just saying, it'd be understandable. They bring you back to life, give you a crew, a new Normandy-"

"I saw myself what Cerberus does. The Illusive Man likes to paint anyone who does horrific experiments as rogue cells, but it's all bullshit. As soon as I've taken down the Collectors, Cerberus is next."

The office went silent again, the two men just staring out into the Presidium in quiet contemplation. Once again, it was Anderson that broke the silence.

"Speaking of which, what's your plan?" Anderson asked.

"Hit the Collectors where they live: past the Omega Four relay."

"No-one's ever come back from that."

"I know. That's why we're waiting for the next attack. If we manage to intercept the Collectors, we can figure out how to get back from whatever's on the other end. Apart from that, I'm preparing for when we hit it."

"How?"

"The new Normandy might be new and improved, but there's still improvements that can be made. Just upgraded the main guns to Thanix Cannons."

Anderson whistled. "Must pack a hell of a punch."

"I haven't had the opportunity to test them out yet. Don't want to shoot something and the shots go straight through. It'd just keep going until it fucked up someone's day somewhere along the line."

Anderson nodded in agreement. One of the first things you learned when you started rising through the ranks of the Alliance Navy were the rules of space combat. You couldn't have an idiot at the helm if all the command staff above him died.

"I'm also putting together a team." Shepard continued.

"Ah, so that's why you have Garrus with you." Anderson nodded at the turian, who nodded back.

"Yeah. We don't know what we'll find at the other end of the relay, so we have to be prepared for everything." Shepard paused for a moment, contemplating. "What happened to the old team anyway? I'm guessing most the Alliance personnel were sent to different ships?"

"You'd be right. Adams is on the _Ain Jalut_ now, another Normandy class frigate. Chakwas was assigned to a groundside facility, but she recently took a leave of absence."

"She's on the Normandy. So's Joker."

Anderson laughed again. "Sounds about right, for the pair of them. Kaiden's still with the Alliance, but from what I've been told, his current mission is classified. According to Hackett, Liara was instrumental in recovery your body, but she disappeared off the radar after that. Tali returned to the Flotilla, haven't heard from her either."

"She was leading the Marines on Freedom's Progress."

"Really? You must've rubbed off on her. You also rubbed off on Wrex. Every report that comes in from Tuchunka, "Urdnot Wrex" is always mentioned. He went back and became head of Clan Urdnot, and started throwing his weight around. Set up a safe zone for Krogan females, started allying with other clans... The Council considers the Urdnot lands the de facto capital of Tuchunka at this point."

Shepard smiled. "He once told me that if a Krogan had the choice between curing the Genophage and fighting for credit, the Krogan would pick fighting for credits every time."

"Well, it doesn't look like he's curing the genophage at any rate, but with him in charge, the future for the Krogan looks brighter."

The conversation between the two lulled again, as Shepard thought about what Anderson had said. It sounded nothing like the bitter cynic Wrex had been when they had first met. Maybe he had rubbed off on the guy after all.

"You'd think Udina would've crashed the meeting with the Councilors." Shepard wondered.

"I did think that. So I pre-empted him, sent him to some trade talks." Anderson replied. "He may be an ass, but he's useful. Anything you need, he can get, and he sorts through red tape like a machine. He's a good bureaucrat, but a horrible politician."

"It's a pity he isn't here. I have to ask him about one of his advisors."

"Oh? Why?"

"Ceberus pointed me in their direction, said she'd be a asset to the team. Elsa Schnee."

Anderson pushed off from the balcony railing, hiding the surprise that etched his face. "I know her. Why's Cerberus interested in her?"

"Apparently, she only started existing nine years ago. She's also royalty who's family line isn't documented at all, which is rare. And you wouldn't believe what they say she can do."

"Ice."

Shepard's eyes widened as he turned to his old friend, who looked at him grimly.

"Shepard," he continued. "That's one rabbit hole you don't wanna go down."

* * *

><p>The spires of Arendelle City glittered and glistened in the background behind the Royal Graveyard. It stood atop one of the many hills that surrounded Arendelle City and pushed it up instead of out. After being first used in 1841, the graveyard had grown since then. Atop the hill, in pride of place, were the graves of King Agdar and Queen Idunn, with their successive generations being further and further down the hill.<p>

Many tourists wondered why such huge, rough-hewn boulders were used as headstones for the fallen Kings and Queens. The answer was simple: it was tradition. Unlike what many believed, Arendelle's economy hadn't run solely on ice harvesting. In fact, their largest export was fine stone for use in construction. With the mountains and cliffs that surrounded the capital, it was another thing they had in abundance. The burial practices of royalty still exemplified this, even to this day.

A stone headstone, and stone coffin to go with it.

Although one could afford a stone coffin quite easily, only a King could afford to buried in it. It had taken days of work, and the use of an ingenious system of pulleys and levers to bring her parent's headstones to the top of the hill. No coffin lay in their graves, however. A loss at sea prevented that.

Each grave she passed on her way up brought painful memories, loved ones long lost. Alva, Christian, Michael... all taken before their time in tragic accidents. Georgina had been gone fifty years, Idina another thirty before that.

The snowmen who followed behind Elsa were unusually silent whenever they came with her here. Grand Pabbie had explained that because they came from Elsa's mind, they were connected to it. They subconsciously felt what she felt. When she was angry, they were easier to anger. When she was happy, they were usually happier.

And when she was sad, a sadness lingered at the back of their mind.

Then again, that's what love was. A state of being where your emotions depended on another persons'. Olaf and Marshmallow loved their "Mama", as Marshmallow would put it. They had learned a lot over their own three centuries of existence. Death had little meaning when they first came into being, but it was something they both had seen too many friends experience, though they would never find it themselves.

Elsa stopped short of the top, as always. Three graves lay before her, but only two had coffins. One even bore her name. A full eighteen years after Anna and Kristoff's passing, Elsa had faked her death and handed the crown to Idunn when she was old enough. It had taken her to her late thirties to realize she didn't look a day older than the day she had been coronated. Another side effect of her powers, Pabbie had said. They had frozen her in time, forever youthful. But a Queen who was young forever would sit upon the throne forever.

And she couldn't handle that.

Already at this point her fame had gotten to her. Every day there was a new Prince or King knocking at the castle gates, seeking her hand in marriage. The power of one of the few absolute monarchies left in the world was an appealing prospect, and combined with the tales of Elsa's power and beauty, many men thought her to be a road to glory. They usually left Arendelle soon after arriving, displeased that their road to glory had shunned their insincere advances.

Among the common folk, rumors had begun to spread. Some said she in league with the devil, others that she ruled by divine right. There was even accusations of being a changeling, or some other form of supernatural creature. The majority of Arendelle's citizens knew her as "Queen Elsa, the Ice Sorceress" or "The Snow Queen". She was known far more for her power than for her deeds.

The final straw had been Pabbie's forewarnings of the future. Humanity, as a whole, sought to investigate, to explore, to _know. _Uncertainty was a thing that human race had difficulty with. The urge for scientific discovery was not in itself a bad thing, but what passed as "science" back then was nothing more than barbaric. Already some foreign scientists had expressed interest in vivisecting her. Always in private quarters, of course, but word always reached her.

So she retreated from the world. A faked illness, followed by a faked death. It had always been her intention to use this new lease on life to travel, to explore, to learn, and when the time was right come back into the world. However, it eventually became easier to keep hiding herself away. Old habits died hard, but she had learned from the last time she shut herself away from the world. She didn't shut herself away from family this time.

It didn't matter in her mind. For thirteen years she had shut out the person who had meant most to her. The six they had spent together afterwards would never make up for it. Even if Anna lived to this day, Elsa would still regret those thirteen years.

"Hi Anna." Olaf said, finally breaking the silence that hung over them. "I'm sorry about other-other-Olaf. Guess he's going into the ground with you too. You have so many people in there with you, I'm surprised there's still room."

Elsa let him ramble on for a few more minutes. He always talked to Anna and Kristoff like they could actually hear him. He had once said, centuries ago, that because it was both Anna and Elsa who had built him originally that Anna was like a mother to him too. It was like Anna had the same sort of connection with Olaf that Elsa had with both her snowmen.

When she left, she left a wreath of ice flowers on each grave except her own. They'd fade away before dawn broke, but they would've appreciated the sentiment. To Elsa, family meant everything, but she buried more than she deserved to.

* * *

><p>In the distance, a lone man watched Elsa and her snowmen leave, before speaking into his radio. "We've confirmed the target, sir."<p>

The radio crackled in response. "Is everything ready?"

"Nearly. We should have everything up and running in time for the funeral."

"Good."

And with that, the figure slipped away into the night.


	5. The World's Greatest Criminal Mind

**Author's Note: Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.**

**Also, sorry for the delay. Meant to have this up New Year's Day, but the holidays got in the way.**

**Fun Fact: 2015 is 171 years after the events of Frozen, in 1844... And 171 years before the events of Mass Effect 3, in 2186.**

* * *

><p>"...what do you mean, Anderson?" Shepard asked, confusion in his voice.<p>

"What I mean, Shepard, is that some things just have to remain secret. For the greater good."

"Like the Reapers?" Shepard said derisively.

"Not like that, Shepard. You know as well as I do that we should be preparing for the Reapers, not sticking our heads in the sand. But dig into this, and you're gonna hurt people. Good people."

"It's too late for that. If Cerberus knows about her-"

"There are ways of getting around Cerberus. Now that we know they're interested in her, we can implement them. I won't say more than that. C-Sec might sweep this office regularly, but that hasn't stopped others in the past."

Shepard stopped for a moment. It wasn't as if Anderson hadn't kept the truth from him in the past, but he had always had his reasons. Here, he was laying them out, clear as day. This genuinely something Anderson didn't want him to go looking into. He was always honest about his reasons, he genuinely believed people would get hurt if Shepard looked into this.

In the end, it came down to Shepard to make the choice: either go for the possible asset, putting the mission before anything else; or let it go, saving this "Elsa Schnee" (which Shepard was sure was a fake name, "Schnee" was German for snow) and other "good people" from harm, but potentially hurt his ability to complete the mission.

It went against one of the core fibers of Shepard's being. He was insatiably curious. Everything there was to know, he wanted to know. Whenever he got a minute to himself, he'd pull up the Galactic Codex and start reading. This was a mystery that felt like it was worth solving: a woman who's abilities seemed supernatural. Maybe they were.

But he trusted Anderson, and Anderson was telling him not to look into this.

"Alright. I'll take her off my list. But what's her story? People just don't appear out of nowhere."

Anderson sighed and shook his head. "That's classified, Shepard."

"She's Alliance?" Shepard asked, surprised.

"No. This isn't the Alliance's secret to keep. I trust you, but the people in charge of this secret... some of them aren't your biggest fans."

"Most of the time, when people tell me something's classified, or a secret, I eventually find out."

"Well, if that happens, I owe you a beer." Anderson said with a chuckle.

"I'll collect on that." Shepard replied, smiling. "Anyway, I should go. Let you get back to your work."

Anderson nodded, and Shepard made his way to the door. Before he could leave however, Anderson called out to him.

"Shepard." he said, looking the Commander in the eyes from across the room. "...don't die on me again."

"...I'll try."

That was really all he could say.

* * *

><p><em>"I am truly sorry, your Majesty, but these symptoms are very common. Headaches, diarrhea, vomiting... It could be anything."<em>

_"What can be done to help?"_

_"Well, I'll observe them over the next few days, see if any new symptoms crop up. I'll make sure to keep them fed and hydrated. For the time being, I'd recommend you isolate yourself from your sister and her husband. We don't want this disease spreading."_

_Isolate. It felt like that word had hung over Elsa's life like a dark specter, causing pain and sorrow wherever it went. It would help to remind herself that this was only for a few days, while Anna and Kristoff got this awful bug out of their system. An impulsive part of her felt like taking the risk, coming down with the same illness just to make sure Anna was well, but she had to banish those thoughts from her mind. As Queen, she could not risk succumbing to illness while her second-in-command was also taken ill._

_"Can you be sure I'm not already infected?"_

_"If you were exposed, you'd likely have been exposed at the same time as they were. You'd be showing symptoms by now. It's possible your powers have protected you from the disease, but it's better to be safe than sorry."_

_"What about the risk to your health, Doctor?"_

_In Elsa's eyes, it was a reasonable concern. The Royal Physician, Dr. David Leietaker, was an elderly man. He had been present when both Elsa and Anna had come into this world, and Elsa was reasonably sure that he had been present for her father's birth as well. She would have left him retire years ago, but his experience was invaluable. She made do with hiring him a veritable army of support staff, yet still he insisted in doing most things himself._

_"The first few years of a physician's career is spent catching every disease under the sun, Your Majesty. Whatever your sister and her husband have caught, I probably had it years ago."_

_With a grandfatherly smile, the elderly doctor raised himself from the deep burgundy armchair he had been sitting in, and left Elsa's office._

_She sighed and glanced around the room. It's walls were covered in bookshelves that held hundreds, nearly thousands of legal documents, treaties and histories. All were handed down through the ages, from monarch to monarch. Many of the older volumes could be considered mythologies, speaking of magic and legends. Elsa had her suspicions that they were factual, if embellished. After all, the Valley of the Living Rock actually had rock trolls in it, just like the legends said._

_The legends said nothing of their obsession with love. Everything they did had love in it somewhere. They could actually _sense _love. That's why they were so quick to marriage: they could tell whether it was true love straight off. They didn't see any need for a courtship. It was funny the first few times Anna and Kristoff had brought her to see his family, when they tried to get the two to marry while they were there. By the time they met them to actually announce a real engagement, their opinions on the impromptu ceremony they had kept throwing together had run the gamut from amusement, to annoyance, and finally to non-chalance._

_Now the Trolls made do with asking Elsa when she was getting a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. It didn't matter to them who she fell in love with._

Not like I have the time,_ Elsa thought. _Nor the inclination.

_It wasn't that nobody had expressed interest. Quite the opposite, in fact. Nobles had come from many different countries in an attempt to woo her and win her hand. She was young, single, the Queen of a nation... Not to mention that many would love to turn her magic against their enemies._

_Apparently, people also considered her beautiful. That may have also been a factor._

_Anna had been vocal in helping her reject these suitors. She had been pretty physical too, with several of the slimier suitors. After the first five black eyes (and a mild case of frostbite around the upper thighs of a particularly brash French noble), the ones who had been more vocal in their post-marriage intentions stopped showing up._

_Anna had also suggested looking outside the nobility, but it was a rare person who was blind to the title like Kristoff was. The fact that he cared more for Anna as a person and couldn't care less about the fact that she was a Princess really boiled back down to his childhood. The Trolls had raised him to care more for who a person really was, than whatever their title or blood-line implied._

_Thinking of the Trolls, Elsa wondered if she should tell them about Kristoff's illness. It seemed only polite, but she worried that it would worry them over nothing. Grand Pabbie would likely request to help treat the two, and although she held great respect for him and his knowledge of magical matters, she doubted his medicinal abilities._

_It would hurt to bring Idunn to see her Grandparents, though. She could convince Grand Pabbie of Dr. Leietaker's ability later._

* * *

><p>Staying berthed for a few days was easier said than done. Over the six days Kasumi requested for preparation, Shepard had been to C-Sec's Headquarters five times.<p>

Jack had been charged twice with drunk and disorderly on consecutive days. He'd had to ban her from going to bars or purchasing alcohol, and made Garrus go with her every time she left the ship.

Miranda and Jacob has been picked up at the same time by an over-eager C-Sec Officer. He'd noticed their uniform's Cerberus logo and had arrested them on terrorism charges. After that, he'd made a mental note to buy them some clothes that didn't advertise the fact that they were members of a terrorist organization. He needed some himself, Cerberus being eager to advertise that he was currently associated with them.

Grunt had been arrested for assault on a Krogan bouncer, who'd barred him from getting into the bar. Apparently, Grunt had yet to enter puberty. After giving the young Krogan a stern lecture, he'd taken him off the duty roster. Grunt might be a good fighter, but he was a kid, and Shepard had enough bad press without tossing the use of child soldiers to the list.

Then Jack had been arrested again, this time for public indecency. The belts she wore on her chest didn't qualify as clothing under the Citadel's dress code, and the same over-eager C-Sec Officer had jumped at the chance to redeem his mistake. Garrus was the only reason the poor guy wasn't in traction at the moment.

To be fair, Shepard had a hard time disagreeing with the Officer, but he couldn't afford the fine.

Well, he could actually afford it, but it was cheaper to use his Spectre status to get him to let Jack go.

Overall, shore leave had produced mixed results. Those incidents were an unfortunate downside, but on the other hand, Cerberus had taken the opportunity to send them them a half a dozen different weapons and several armours for Shepard. He'd nearly tossed two of the armours out of the airlock due to their prominent Cerberus logos, but instead simply decided never to wear them. The Alliance could probably use them for research.

At the moment, Shepard wasn't wearing any armour. Instead, he was wearing a crisp, black tuxedo - not the horrific-looking modern kind, the traditional kind you saw in those centuries-old James Bond vids. Combine that with his mysterious female companion in a form-fitting bodysuit, and their expensive skycar, which was racing across the surface of a glittering lake, and you couldn't be blamed for mistaking Shepard for the famed super-spy.

"How do you like the suit?" Kasumi asked from beside him.

"It's great. Mind if I keep it? Every other set of clothes I have has a Cerberus logo on it."

"Of course, Mr. Solomon Gunn." Kasumi idly swatted Shepard's hand away from the autopilot switch. It was the fifth time she had caught him trying to disengage the autopilot, and although they were about to infiltrate one of the most secure private homes in the galaxy, she didn't have a deathwish.

Commander John Shepard was known for many things, especially amongst the Systems Alliance Military, which Keiji had spent several months infiltrating. Shepard was the sole survivor of the massacre on Akuze. Shepard was an N7, the best of the best of the Systems Alliance's special forces. Shepard was humanity's first Spectre, a position of great power and authority.

Shepard could not drive worth a damn.

Shepard was having a good day's driving if there weren't any rollovers. It seemed his opinion on mountains was that they were an affront to his honour, and must be conquered. He had managed to violate a dozen Citadel traffic laws between dropping Kasumi off at the _Normandy_ and returning to the customs checkpoint. You couldn't even say that no-one had been killed by his driving: much of it had taken place in combat, and Shepard was of the opinion that ramming always worked.

Kasumi was thankful that he didn't pilot the _Normandy._

"I'm guessing Solomon Gunn is my cover?" Shepard asked, nursing his hand in an exaggerated show of pain.

"You run a small but talented group of mercs in the Terminus Systems-"

"The best covers have some truth in them." Shepard said in approval.

Kasumi raised an eyebrow at his interruption. "Right. That's just the sort of group Hock respects. I took the liberty of giving you a reputation: papers, witnesses, article in _Badass Weekly."_

"...is that a real magazine?"

"It's a monthly publication. One of their most popular segments is the running series of articles on your adventures."

"Must've been difficult over the last two years."

"Not really. You gave them a wealth of material in your few months fighting Saren. They only ran out the December before you returned from the grave."

"Remind me to give them an interview. So, what's the plan?"

Kasumi pulled up the skycar's holographic interface, bringing up a series of photos. Shepard scanned over them, trying pick the connections between them. There were two pictures of a golden statue of a Turian, one that looked like lobby of house (_Probably Hock's_. Shepard mused.), and another that showed the weapons and armour Shepard had relinquished to Kasumi back on the _Normandy._

_"_Our friend Hock is throwing a party for his closest _friends. _A couple of the worst liars, cheaters and mass murderers you'd ever want to meet, all paying tribute to the great man himself."

"Tribute?"

"Hock has connections. In exchange for keeping them in business, his _friends _give him extravagant gifts. Ours is a golden statue of your old friend Saren, rendered in loving detail, and filled to the brim with our weapons and armor."

"Why Saren? He was anti-human."

"Saren's invasion of Eden Prime turned a lot of colonists who wanted to arm themselves towards Hock. The decimation of the Citadel Defense Fleet brought more people to his door, and the recent Collector attacks-"

"I get it, he's profiting off of people's paranoia."

"Exactly. They'll let you keep your sidearm though. Just keep it concealed. They'll bring the statue to the entrance of the vault, at the back of the ballroom. Once we get in, we case the security and start peeling away the layers. We waltz into the vault, find Keiji's greybox, and make our way back out."

"I'm gonna guess that you'd prefer it if we shot our way out. With Hock as a casualty."

"As long as we get Keiji's greybox back, anything else can come later."

The skycar came to a graceful halt, hovering for a moment above the landing pad before setting itself down on the polished metal. The canopy opened, allowing Shepard to step out before he offered his hand to Kasumi. She took it, allowing him to help her from the skycar. It seemed they were both on the same wavelength: if she was Gunn's plus-one, then Gunn would be courteous enough to help her from the vehicle.

Shepard shut the canopy of the skycar as Kasumi walked past him. He turned to follow her, spotting the Saren statue off to their left. A VI-controlled forklift was taking it off the back of a VI-controlled truck, while a man in black armor was scanning it with his omnitool. It took Shepard a moment to recognize the insignia on the man's chest: he was used to Eclipse mercs being in their usual shade of brown/yellow. He was sure that they would insist it was gold in colour, but in his opinion it was more vomit-coloured. He liked them in black, though. Dressed for their own funeral.

However, as they moved to walk past the guard, he held out his hand to stop them.

"Just one moment, sir, but there seems to be something wrong with the statue."

_Shit_. Shepard thought. _So much for infiltration._

_"_Is there a problem here?_" _asked a man with weird facial hair, clad in a white-coloured tuxedo. Or at least the abomination that people called a tuxedo nowadays.

_Yes, your translator is on the blink. The accent it's giving you is _awful_._

_"_No, Mr. Hock. Just doing a scan." replied the Eclipse guard, a hint of worry in his voice.

Hock nodded, and turned his attention onto Shepard. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Donovan Hock."

"Solomon Gunn." Shepard said, extending his hand for a handshake. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And I've heard a lot about you." Hock replied, not bothering to shake Shepard's hand. "You've been busy lately, if the extranet is to be believed."

"Had to pay for the cosmetic surgery somehow." Shepard rubbed the still-healing scars on his face from the Lazarus project. "You wouldn't believe how many people hire you when you tell them you're Commander Shepard."

This managed to elicit a laugh from Hock. "I knew recognized your face."

"Sir, the scanners aren't picking anything up." The guard chimed in.

Hock turned to the statue, and eyed it appreciatively. "I don't think our guests would come here all the way from Illium just to cause trouble, do you?"

"No, sir." replied the guard, hurriedly.

"Yeah, if we wanted to cause trouble, we'd be here from the Citadel." Shepard supplied.

"You may pass through, Mr. Gunn, with my apologies."

_And you've extended your lifespan by half an hour._

_"_But I must ask that your friend remains outside. I'm sure you understand." Hock finished.

_Correction: Twenty minutes._

"Why?" Shepard asked, feigning offence.

"I don't like the look of your friend, so she stays. Simple as that."

_Fifteen._

_"_What if she puts on a dress?" Shepard asked, half in jest.

Shepard could feel Kasumi glaring a hole in the back of his head.

"I'm starting to dislike the look of you, Mr. Gunn. That is an unwise course of action."

Shepard raised his arms in surrender. "Fine, fine. She stays outside."

"Good." Hock turned and walked away, the guard following him with the statue.

Shepard and Kasumi waited for a moment in an unearthly silence, the ambient sounds of Hock's fountain and the nearby waves lapping the shore permeating it. Then, suddenly, Shepard spoke.

"That went well."

Kasumi stared at him for another long moment. Or at least he though she was staring at him. The upper half of her face was shrouded in darkness by her hood, the lights of her eyes being the only things visible. She kinda reminded him of Tali, except more kleptomaniacal.

Kasumi then took a look around her, checking for witnesses and cameras, before activating her cloaking device and fading from existence.

"Go ahead, Mr. Gunn." she said, a twinge of annoyance in her voice. "You know the plan."

With that, Shepard and his invisible friend took to the steps that led into Hock's mansion.

* * *

><p><em>It had been two weeks since Anna and Kristoff had first fallen ill, and their condition had slowly deteriorated.<em>

_Whatever this illness was, it had developed faster than Dr. Leietaker was expecting. Six days after the first showing of symptoms, the convulsions had begun. Elsa had been sitting at Anna's bedside, it having been determined that the illness was not spreading past them, when the first convulsion had struck._

_They had been sitting there, just talking. Anna hadn't been herself, between the drowsiness and the headaches, but she had been relatively fine. Not as perky as she usually was, but still Anna._

_Then, in single moment, she had exploded into a fit of shaking, unable to control her own body. Elsa had panicked, not knowing what to do, and Dr. Leietaker had to have her escorted from the room when he noticed the ambient temperature dropping. Elsa had attempted to resist, but when she noticed that the floor was beginning to ice over, she complied with the Doctor's orders._

_She hadn't seen them since._

_Whenever she asked for reports from Doctor Leietaker, he refused on the grounds that he didn't wish to cause her undue distress. He merely assured her that he was doing all he could to treat this illness. It did nothing to reassure her._

_Right now, what did reassure her was the fact that Grand Pabbie was in their with the doctor. She made her case to Leietaker that the cause might be magical, and he had accepted the possibility. He was grateful for the help, even if they had come to a disagreement or two._

_At the moment, Idunn was with her grandma Bulda and the rest of Kristoff's family. A large amount of them, nearly worried sick, had jumped at the opportunity to be near Kristoff in his time of need. Elsa had been slightly worried about having enough beds for them, but they were more than happy to sleep on the floor, rolled into boulders._

_Elsa tried to bring her mind back to the work in front of her, another trade request from Great Britain, but it was much too difficult. She really couldn't be blamed for it, could she? Some of the only family she had left was deathly ill, who was anyone to judge her for being distracted?_

_Her mind made up, Elsa went to door, intending to go see Anna and Kristoff. If she could just see them, if she could just rid herself of the crushing uncertainty that came with not knowing how ill they were, she could concentrate on matters of state. At least, that's what she told herself._

_However, Elsa didn't get further than the door. She threw it open, only to be shocked at the sight of Grand Pabbie desperately trying to support a weak-looking Dr. Leietaker. His short stature was making it exceedingly difficult. Elsa took over for him, bringing the elderly man's arm around her shoulder and helping him towards the couch. After laying the Doctor across it, she turned to Pabbie._

_"What happened?" Elsa asked, ice beginning to creep from her shoes_

_"It seems he has fallen ill, to the same disease as Kristoff and Anna." Grand Pabbie replied with a weary tone._

_"Not a disease." stated Leietaker, as firmly as he could in his condition._

Poison. Hans. Anna is dying, Kristoff is dying, what's left of my family is dying and I can't do anything-

_"Your Majesty." Grand Pabbie said, breaking Elsa from her spiraling thoughts._

_Elsa hadn't noticed it, but in the scant fews seconds Elsa had been distracted by her thought, the room's temperature had dropped several degrees and the floor had become coated with ice. Elsa waved her hand in an attempt to thaw it, but found it unyielding._

_"I have determined the cause of the illness." Dr. Leietaker explained. "The symptoms are common to many diseases, however I have managed to determine the source. I sampled the food given to your sister and her husband, and have come down with the same malady."_

_"Poison?" Elsa asked, trembling._

_"...yes. Arsenic. It is a common rat poison, so it could be an environmental contamination, but as your meals were not polluted... It is likely a targeted attack."_

_"...can you help them?"_

_"...I am sorry, Elsa. It's progressed too far. They're slipping in and out of consciousness. The final stages of arsenic poisoning lead to a comatose state, and then..."_

_"Death." Grand Pabbie finished softly._

_It took a moment to sink in. The thing Elsa had dreaded for nearly two decades was finally happening. There was nothing she could do to stop it. Unlike every nightmare where it had happened, Elsa wasn't even at fault this time. It was something she couldn't have controlled._

_Elsa ran. She ran as fast she could, every moment now precious. She didn't know how long she had left with Anna, but she wasn't going to waste any second of it._

* * *

><p>Shepard whistled. The vault entrance in front of him was an impressive. DNA scanner, password protected voice lock, and a kinetic barrier. All that was needed to make a vault impenetrable.<p>

Or at least that was what Kasumi had said. Safe cracking hadn't been Shepard's speciality back in the Tenth Street Reds.

"So, how do we get through this?" Shepard asked the thin air next to him.

"The DNA scanner is child's play. Hock's private quarters should have tons of it. Voice lock is a bit harder, we'll need a voice sample and the password. The kinetic barrier is simple: cut the power. Works every time... If we can find it." The thin air next to him replied.

"I'll get the voice sample. Hock seems to be the type to love his own voice. I'll see if I can goad him into a speech."

Kasumi decloaked, and looked at Shepard inquisitively. "You have recording software on your omnitool?"

"Yeah, I got it after meeting an Asari named Nassana Dantius. Played me for a fool, and got off scot-free. If I'd been recording her, she'd be rotting in a C-Sec cell."

"What did she get you to do?"

"She told me her sister was being held by mercenaries. Turns out, her sister was the mercenary and she wanted the sister dead."

"Not exactly a tale of sisterly love."

"Not really, no. Anyway, I'll get in position to distract Hock, you cut the power and find the password. It's probably in the security room we passed."

"I'll need you to scan for the power lines, Shep. I can't do it while cloaked."

"Okay, I'll find it, you cut it."

Kasumi recloaked, and stepped out of the room with Shepard. His omintool lit up as the program was sent over and started. Right in front of his eyes, the power line behind the wall lit up.

It was pretty freaky, to be honest. It wasn't even a heads-up display that you found in most modern helmets: it was simply added to data stream that was coming from his robotic eyes. He had been trying to get used to it over the past few weeks, but it was difficult to get used to being a cyborg.

It took him the whole way around the room, probably due to the water pipes for the fountain, but he arrived at the junction box. It was hidden behind a tv screen showing a fire, set into a bookcase. The bookcase itself also contained a small statuette. Shepard was very much capable of putting two and two together and getting a trope so old it was prehistoric. He experimentally pulled the statuette, and he smiled broadly when it tilted forward on a hinge, the screen sliding down and revealing the junction box.

"There's the junction box. Are you fine from here?"

"Sure, Shep. Try not to have too much fun without me."

As Shepard slipped out of the little alcove and towards Hock, Kasumi decloaked and walked up to the junction box. It didn't take long to cut the power: a simple wave of her omnitool, and the internals fried. Nothing else ran on this power line, it was too important to have to disconnect because a door was on the fritz.

Cloaking again, Kasumi left the alcove and made her way back into the main room. True to his word, Shepard had goaded Hock into a speech. Kasumi slinked her way through the assembled crowd, no one wanting to earn Hock's ire by missing one of his speeches.

The alcove that contained the security door was deserted as a result, so Kasumi was able to decloak and hack the door open. Once again, child's play for anyone halfway competent with a decent omnitool. Hock should've invested in security in-depth, and not just one seemingly-impenetrable line of defenses.

The door opened up into a hallway, which ended at another door. From the hologram that it was projecting Kasumi could see it was unlocked. That meant she could stay cloaked as she opened it.

The two security guards turned towards the door when it opened, but saw nothing. Brushing it off as a glitch in electronics, they went back to pouring over their respective viewscreens. The didn't see Kasumi decloak behind them and activate her omniblade. A quick jab each to the spine took them out.

She began searching through the computers, quickly finding what she needed. The password was "Peruggia".

_The man who stole the Mona Lisa_. Kasumi thought.

This raised her suspicions a bit. Although Hock would like to think himself skilled enough to have stolen the Mona Lisa, there was also the fact that Kasumi herself was in possession of it. It was entirely possible that it was a coincidence, but combining it with the fact that Hock had turned her away at the door...

Well, Shepard might get his wish for a shoot-out. Kasumi wasn't backing out now.

She also found a few more interesting files, including the fact that the Eclipse mercenaries here were under a woman named Roe, and enough records of her voice to patch together a modulator.

She also grabbed the encryption codes for the guards' communications. Wouldn't hurt to tap in to them.

Kasumi left the security room, closing the doors behind her. As she emerged, Hock was finishing off his speech with a toast to everyone in the room, saying something about how they were the people who kept the galaxy turning. If that was true, then the galaxy deserved to stop in Kasumi's opinion. These people had no morals, no integrity, a prime example of there being no honour among thieves.

From across the room, Kasumi spotted Shepard moving away from Hock, and towards the door that lead to Hock's bedroom. She dashed up the stairs to the balcony that lay above the door, and after checking for people watching and finding nothing, she decloaked. She typed a message on her omnitool to Shepard, sent it, and watched as his own one lit up as he read it.

Shepard swaggered on over to door, and began pushing at the button that opened it, before being stopped by the guard that stood off to one side of it.

"I'm sorry, sir, these are Mr. Hock's private quarters. Authorized personnel only." he said.

"I am authorized. Chief Roe sent me." Shepard said, flashing a shit-eating grin at the guard.

The guard brought his hand up to his ear in an attempt to radio Chief Roe, but Kasumi intercepted the line of communication before it could reach her. Speaking through the cobbled-together modulator, she confirmed that "Solomon Gunn" had access. She dropped a dash of Roe's hard-assness into it as well, to keep the guard's suspicions from being raised.

Dutifully, the guard opened the door and let Shepard though. Kasumi leapt from the balcony, and squeezed herself through before the door shut itself again.

Now all they had to do was get the DNA.

* * *

><p><em>"Elsa, you have to promise me something." Anna said, as she watched the tears trickle down Elsa's face.<em>

_It pained Elsa to look at Anna like this. Her sister, normally so full of energy and life, was weak and lifeless. The poison had taken a lot out of her. Her hair was incredibly thin, her cheekbones suddenly so sharp and angular, her eye sockets sunken and her eyes glazed. She'd lost a dramatic amount of weight, to the point she looked almost like a skeleton._

_The thought of skeletons brought a fresh, searing knife to Elsa's gut._

_"I'll look after Idunn. You don't have to worry about that." Elsa said, pre-empting Anna's request._

_Kristoff was asleep next to Anna, his breath sharp and rough. He was similarly skeletal looking, which was astonishing on what had been such a muscular physique. His brow was furrowed in worry and pain even as he slept._

_"That's not what I was gonna ask, Elsa. I need you to promise me that you won't shut yourself away from the world because of this. No matter what. I know you wouldn't stop being Queen, I mean, the country would fall apart without you, that council is full of big, dumb idiots-"_

_Anna stopped herself. There wasn't really time to ramble._

_"What I mean is, you have start living. I know you always say that this family is all you need, but... I want you to make friends. Go to interesting places. Fall in love and start a family. I mean, if you like girls you can always adopt, and Arendelle is _super_ progressive like that-"_

_Anna exploded into a coughing fit, her words catching on the dryness in her throat. Elsa grabbed the water from Anna's bedside table and held the glass to her lips. Elsa watched Anna's neck as she swallowed, the bones of her spine stretching the skin._

_"Anna-"_

_"Elsa, please. You shut the world out for thirteen years, then ignored it for another six. You have to live. Please. For me."_

_Elsa sat in silence for the longest, any answer caught in back of her throat. Anna slipped back into unconsciousness, her last words echoing in Elsa's mind._

_She would not wake up again._

_Over the next three hundred years, Elsa would look back on this moment many times. Each time, as she remembered Anna's words, her advice, the same thought would come to Elsa every time._

I'm sorry, Anna.

* * *

><p>Donovan Hock a pretty poor taste in bedroom furnishings, in Shepard's opinion. The bed was in the centre of room, standing freely like a supporting column. The computer desk was situation behind the headboard, while a set of couches around a coffee table sat at the foot of the bed.<p>

The view from the window that ran the length of the wall was spectacular, though.

Shepard spotted the safe from across the room, and made a beeline for it. Although he wasn't a safe cracker, most of them were pretty easy to hack. He was well-rewarded with a bounty of seven thousand credits. Not as much as he thought he would get, but Hock likely kept his money in a bank on Illium or something. Maybe Noveria.

Across the room, Kasumi was checking the computer desk for DNA samples. She'd managed to pick some up off a datapad, detailing Hock's technician's progress with "Project Okuda". They hadn't managed to crack the greybox yet.

She spotted Shepard looting the safe, before he turned to the antique swords.

"The great Commander Shepard, looting the contents of a safe? Oh what would the press say?" she said with a wry smile.

"There's a lot of things the press doesn't know about me. The fact that I know how to crack a safe is just one of them." Shepard replied, picking up some skin cells from the swords.

"You've done time?"

"I grew up in an orphanage."

"You learned how to crack a safe in an orphanage?"

"Pretty much. People like to compare orphanages to prisons, because they're both breeding ground for criminals. Both have an older generation teaching the new kids the tricks of the trade. And you learn this stuff, because..."

He paused, and moved on to checking Hock's pillows. Nothing. The cleaners were thorough.

"It might be the best orphanage in the world, the staff might be the greatest people, but everyone knows they aren't family. You're in there because you have no family. Either they're dead, or they didn't love you enough to keep you. Might not have even loved you enough to name you. So you gotta build your own family."

Ashtray on the coffee table, but no cigarette butt. Shepard started checking down the sides of the couches.

"Once you're a teenager, your adoption chances die out. That's when you start making friends with the guys around you. Soon enough, they become family, and family trusts each other enough to let you into the illegal stuff they're doing. Let you help out with the "family business"."

Nothing down the sides but a credit chit. He pocketed it, as it was handy to have some spare change on him.

"Most kids start on pickpocketing. No-one expects a group of twelve year olds playing in the streets to be the guys who stole your wallet. After that, most kids go into being lookouts, then helping with the business more directly. Breaking and entering, dealing, stuff like that."

Bingo, saliva on a wine glass. That was enough to put together a passable DNA sample. He walked over to Kasumi and handed her his samples. She could fabricate the real sample with her omnitool.

"I was different, though. Some of the older kids realized I was pretty good at charming people, lying to them."

"A confidence trickster?" Kasumi asked, slightly incredulous.

"A con-man. Well, con-kid. No one ever expects a kid to lie as well as I did. How did you think I goaded Hock into a speech?"

Shepard sighed, and looked down. Very few people actually knew this story. Anderson, Joker... The Squad. He didn't think he'd told Chakwas. Maybe he should, she was risking her career to be on the _Normandy_.

"It felt... good. I was like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to feed the poor, and I was very poor."

"...so what made you leave?" Kasumi asked. In her experience, most people who got out of the game could attribute it to something.

Shepard stared off into the distance for a moment, thinking about the question. _That _was something he hadn't told anybody. Not Anderson, not Garrus, not Joker... No-one.

It wasn't that he didn't trust them. He'd trust them with that story if he could.

But he couldn't. The moment he told anyone that story was the moment he would stop being a "good guy" in their eyes. The moment that anyone with an ounce of morals would lose their respect for him.

So he did what he did best, what he had done whenever anyone had asked that question: he lied.

"It really wasn't anything in particular. As I got older, the crimes started to look less victimless. A lot of people fired because they trusted me, a lot of people hurt from the other stuff the gang was doing. I was thinking about just leaving, handing in my resignation and trying to find a real job."

He looked Kasumi in the eyes. At least the next part was true.

"But I knew they wouldn't let me go so easily. So, to make sure I didn't end up in the Fraser river, I had to make sure I was protected. That's where the Alliance came in. From that point on, I never looked back."

"What happened to your gang?" Kasumi asked, hoping not to push him too far. They were still pretty much strangers at this point, but Shepard seemed to have accepted her into his crew.

"The Tenth Street Reds? Last I heard, they've become a xenophobic terrorist group. Tried poisoning a shipment of dextro medicine. They also tried blackmailing me to get their guy out of C-Sec custody. I managed to persuade them into leaving me alone instead. Not a euphemism, by the way."

Shepard shuffled awkwardly for a moment, before bringing himself back on-topic.

"We have everything to open the vault. Let's go."

They both left the bedroom, Kasumi turning invisible once more, and returned to vault entrance. The orange kinetic barrier was now gone, it's power cut earlier. Before Kasumi went to the lock, she stopped at the statue of Saren. With a wave of her omnitool, the plinth opened up into a pair of drawers containing the remainder of Shepard's weapons and armor.

As Kasumi went to work on the voice recognition lock and DNA scanner, Shepard began strapping the armor pieces on over his tuxedo. No matter how good any set of clothes felt, his armor felt better. Shepard supposed it was the feeling of comfort that several hundred thousand credits worth of ceramic armor and kinetic padding gave. Or maybe it was the fact that he seemed to wear his armor more than any other set of clothes he had.

It _was_ the only thing in his closet with a Cerberus logo.

The vault doors hissed open as Shepard attached his shotgun to the magnetic plates on his lower back. He peered between the open doors as Kasumi walked through them and disabled the camera on the other side.

_An elevator. Of course the vault would be deep below ground level._

Wordlessly, he followed Kasumi inside and pushed the button to send them down to the vault.

_Why does so much of my life involve taking elevators?_

* * *

><p><em>They'd been comatose for two days. The end was nearing.<em>

_Their breathing was ragged and heavy, coming in desperate gasps every few seconds._

_They'd lost a lot of their hair. It had come out in great big clumps, a layer of hair coating their pillows or falling out when they tried to brush it._

_They had shed their tears, and said their weak goodbyes. Idunn was with her grandmother again, unable to understand what was going on._

_Nearly every surface of the room, excluding the beds, was coated in a thick layer of ice. It had taken all of Elsa's willpower to keep it away from the door, to keep it open._

Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel.

_Her mantra wasn't working. It had never worked._

_All that was left was to watch the slow rise and fall of their chests._

_They didn't deserve to die like this. They hadn't even reached thirty. Their lives had barely begun. They'd only been married for four years, parents for three._

_They didn't deserve this._

_Elsa slowly realized that, in her grief, she had failed to notice Kristoff's lack of breathing. She waited a few seconds, waiting for a breath, before hanging her head in shame. _

_He had gone, and Elsa hadn't noticed it._

_Anna took another breath, ragged, desperate... painful. It was almost as if she could sense that Kristoff had gone. A breath split between mourning and a desperate cling to life._

_The breath came out slower, a gargle, hissing out as the diaphragm relaxed._

_And she didn't take another breath._

_Elsa's restraint was commendable. She managed three seconds of silence, three seconds of restraint. Three seconds before the blizzard began_

_If there had been thermometer in the room, it would've recorded the lowest temperature ever on Earth. It was four times colder than the average arctic tundra in the dead of winter._

_No living creature should have been able to survive such cold._

_But the cold had never bothered her._


End file.
